


Ian Gallagher: Private Investigator

by ianlipgallagher (mdobbs1614)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, M/M, No yevgeny cause no 3x666, Private Investigator Ian, Private Investigators, Wealthy Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdobbs1614/pseuds/ianlipgallagher
Summary: Ian finally works up the nerve to knock on the door and see what enraged housewife lies before him today.The door swings open to reveal a tall woman with long, dark hair and an intense look in her eyes.“I’m Ian Gallagher.” He introduces himself. “You called me to track someone down for you.”“Yes. My husband.” She answers in a thick, Russian accent.





	

Ian takes a deep breath before knocking on the door of his new client. 

 

He loves being a private investigator. It’s like being a cop without any of the training and politics, not to mention that his salary is a lot higher. He even gets to makes his own hours and he can take time off whenever he wants.

 

The only downside is that he never knows what situation he’s getting himself into. 

 

When Ian first started, he got a lot of calls from drug dealers who wanted him to track down the customers who were evading their tabs. 

 

And while Ian thought that would be the worst of it, now he spends most of his time following cheating husbands, so he’s almost ready to go back to finding crackheads. 

 

Either way, this is his life now. 

 

He gets a call from an angry woman who needs proof that her husband is cheating so that she’ll get more money in the divorce. 

 

It’s not the most glamorous gig, but it pays the bills and then some, so maybe Ian shouldn’t complain.

 

Ian finally works up the nerve to knock on the door and see what enraged housewife lies before him today. 

 

The door swings open to reveal a tall woman with long, dark hair and an intense look in her eyes. 

 

“I’m Ian Gallagher.” He introduces himself. “You called me to track someone down for you.” 

 

“Yes. My husband.” She answers in a thick, Russian accent. 

 

It takes all of Ian’s strength not to roll his eyes. 

 

He figured that this was going to be another infidelity case, but a man can dream. 

 

“Okay.” Ian sighs, ready to recite he usual spiel. “I need a picture of your husband, along with a description of his car and his license number, where he works, and any spots that he likes to hang out during the week.” 

 

The woman walks away to presumably get the information. 

 

“How much will this cost?” She calls from her bedroom. 

 

“Well, I’ll follow him around for the next few days to try and get pictures of him in the act. Each day costs $200.” Ian responds. “If I still have nothing after a week, you can decide to drop it or the price goes up to $250 a day.” 

 

She nods and pulls her checkbook out of her purse. 

 

Ian grins. The best thing about working for rich, betrayed housewives is that they never negotiate the price. 

 

She scribbles out a check for $1000, covering the fee for the next five days. 

 

“Follow him everywhere and get me many pictures.” She growls. 

 

Ian nods, only slightly terrified. He takes the check as well as the picture of the accused cheater and a paper with all of his information scribbled on it. 

 

“Okay, Mrs. Milkovich.” Ian says, reading her name off the check. “I will see you in a week.” 

 

She arches a brow in response before turning back toward her room, leaving Ian to let himself out. 

 

As he pulls the door close behind him, Ian glances down at the photo of Mr. Milkovich. 

 

“Holy shit.” Ian breathes, taking in the pale faced, dark haired, blue eyed hunk that is staring into the camera. 

 

Ian shakes his head and slips the photo into his back pocket. 

 

“Too bad he’s straight.” 

 

*

 

Ian closes his laptop and leans back in his desk chair, reading over the all the notes he’s taken today. 

 

Ian always makes sure to research the target before he heads out to track them.

 

Today he found out all kinds of things about Mr. Milkovich.

 

First off, his legal first name is Mikhailo, but he goes by Mickey. He owns a large construction company that does work all over Chicago. 

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t visit the sites often anymore, mainly staying in the office headquarters, which will make it easier to follow him around. 

 

Secondly, Mickey comes from a battered past. Ian found records of child abuse and neglect in his records. He and his sister, Mandy, both were in and out of foster from a young age. 

 

Ian couldn’t find any information on this sister, though, not even a picture. It’s almost like she disappeared as soon as she turned 18. 

 

Lastly, Mickey has no internet presence. No twitter. No instagram. Ian at least expected one of those lame couple accounts on Facebook, but nothing. That’s fucking strange for a 25 year old, married and rich or not. 

 

Now that Ian’s gathered as much as he can from the web, he sets out to find his prey.

 

Ian drives to Mickey’s office and waits across the street in his car with Mickey’s truck in his sight. 

 

It took a while, but Ian has mastered the art of tailing someone. 

 

It turns out that cheating husbands have a radar for being followed, so Ian's been caught on multiple occasions. Sometimes he still gets caught, but he does it on purpose because the cheaters are willing to pay big for Ian to just ditch the case and leave. 

 

Ian is suddenly alert when he sees the door open and his target waltz out. 

 

“Damn.” Ian whispers, binoculars giving him a closer view. 

 

That picture really didn’t do Mr. Milkovich justice. 

 

For one, even in the fluorescent street lights, Ian can see how his eyes sparkle. 

 

Secondly, and more importantly, that man has an ass on him that you would not believe. 

 

Ian watches it sway back and forth all the way to the parking lot.

 

It’s not until the truck’s lights shine and the engine revs that Ian remembers he should turn his car on and be ready to follow. 

 

He pulls out slowly, making sure his headlights are dimmed as to not draw any unnecessary attention. 

 

He follows Mickey down the road a few miles until he parks beside a local bar that Ian recognizes. 

 

Ian lets Mickey go in first and then walks in himself. 

 

Mickey sits at the center of the bar between two men that he apparent knows. He seems to be on good terms with the bartender too, who places a beer and a shot in front of Mickey before he can even order. 

 

Ian watches for the next two hours as Mickey simply laughs and jokes with his friends. 

 

Finally, at about ten, Mickey gets up, waves goodbye to the men at the bar and heads back to his car. 

 

Ian trails him as Mickey goes straight home. No funny business. 

 

“Weird.” Ian mumbles to himself. 

 

Usually the women who hire him have husbands who are in the midst of full-on, everyday affairs, but Mickey didn’t even glance at his phone for longer than a second. 

 

Oh well, tomorrow’s a new day. 

 

*

 

Ian follows Mickey everyday to no avail. 

 

Each day after work, he goes to the bar, sits with the same friends and makes the same jokes. 

 

In fact, it’s not until Friday that Mickey changes up his routine. 

 

He turns left out of the office parking lot, in the opposite direction of the bar and Ian snaps up. 

 

“Finally.” Ian grumbles. 

 

Mickey drives ten minutes down the road before parking in front of an apartment complex. 

 

‘Here we go.’ Ian thinks. 

 

Mickey climbs the stairs and turns out of Ian’s view.

 

Thankfully, every apartment in this building has a ceiling to floor window to the street, so as soon as Mickey enters an apartment, Ian will be able to capture some photos. 

 

He sees as a dark haired girl on the second floor gets off her couch and opens her door to reveal Mickey. 

 

They hug and walk to the couch, taking a seat and laughing. 

 

Ian snaps a few pictures of the two hanging out, but similarly to the bar, they mostly just talk and drink beer. 

 

“Fuck.” Ian whispers as he follows Mickey’s car back to the Milkovich house a few hours later. 

 

He’s been following this guy for a week, but he’s come up with nothing. The guy is clean as a whistle, and definitely faithful as far as Ian can tell. 

 

Shit. 

 

*

 

Ian takes a deep breath before once again knocking on Mrs. Milkovich’s door.

 

He’s only met her once, but he’s pretty confident that she’s gonna be pissed as hell that he hasn’t found anything. 

 

Ian raps his knuckles against the wood a few times and mental prepares himself for the inevitable storm. 

 

The door swings open and Mrs. Milkovich pulls him inside hastily. 

 

“Husband just left. He could’ve seen you.” She spits. 

 

Ian rolls his eyes.

 

“I watched him leave and didn’t walk up until he was out of view.” He assures her. 

 

“Motherfucker.” She mutters under her breath. 

 

Ian shakes his head, but lets it go.

 

“So?” She asks expectantly. “What did you find?”

 

“Um, well.” Ian starts nervously, trying to wonder if he can break the news without this woman subsequently breaking his face. “He, uh, he mostly spends his nights at a bar with a bunch of dudes.”

 

Mrs. Milkovich rolls her eyes and motions for him to continues.

 

“But he did go to a woman’s apartment on Friday.” Ian adds. “I got some pictures of the two of them together, but they never did more than hug.”

 

The wife sighs, but gestures for Ian to hand her the photos, and he does. 

 

She frowns as she flips through, her scowl getting stronger and stronger.

 

“Ugh!” She barks, throwing the pictures at Ian’s face angrily. “That is his sister you stupid, fucking idiot!"

 

Ian’s hands go up in reflex to grasp at the pictures. 

 

“I didn't know!" Ian defends. "But I guess that makes sense. I mean, they just drank beer and played video games all night so."

 

“A whole fucking week and this is all you have?” She yells. 

 

“Look, ma’am. I can’t make your husband cheat on you. I followed him for a week. He was never out of my sight, and I never saw him even glance at another woman."

 

She runs a hand down her face, mumbling to herself in what Ian believes to be Russian. 

 

She glares at Ian for a moment before reaching into her purse and pulling out a stack of $100 dollar bills. She licks her thumb and pulls out four. 

 

“More money. Follow him today.” She grunts, holding the bills toward Ian. “Is weekend and he says he has overnight work, but construction does not work at night, yes?” 

 

“Right.” Ian nods, accepting the bills. “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Milkovich.” 

 

“Svetlana.” She mutters before turning toward the kitchen, leaving Ian by himself. 

 

“Svetlana.” Ian repeats quietly as he backs out of the house. 

 

*

 

Surprise. Surprise.

 

Ian tracks down Mickey at the damn bar.

 

It takes all his strength not to bang his head against his table in the back.

 

Ian’s had a few of these cases before. 

 

Bored, rich housewives get a little paranoid. They pay Ian to follow their husbands around for weeks and when he finds nothing, they blame him. 

 

He’s hoping this isn’t one of those cases though, because they’re the worst to get out of. 

 

Mickey just stays put at the bar for hours, and Ian is about ready to give up and go home. 

 

When the clock strikes ten, Mickey is up out of his seat and heads to his car, same as always. 

 

Ian sighs, but follows nonetheless. If he’s completely thorough, then there’s no room for fault. 

 

Ian’s gotten so used to this routine that he almost doesn’t notice when Mickey takes a right off Halstead St. 

 

Ian swerves the car and narrowly misses the curb. 

 

“Here we go!” Ian smiles, smacking the steering wheel and hoping this isn’t just another platonic pit stop. 

 

Mickey parks on the street and gets out of his car. Ian parks as well, watching as Mickey fixes his hair and straightens his shirt in the reflection of the passenger window. 

 

“Jackpot.” Ian grins, slipping out of his car and quietly closing the door. 

 

Mickey walks three blocks before stopping outside a club on the corner. He nods at the bouncer and walks straight in. 

 

Ian moves to get in the line, but the bouncer grabs his arm and gives him the once over before gesturing for him to walk in as well. 

 

‘That’s weird.’ Ian thinks. Bouncers usually only let hot girls skip the line. 

 

Ian only has to take a few steps inside this club before he realizes exactly how not weird that was. 

 

The neon lights flash all over the open floor, while loud, bass heavy music bounces off the walls. 

 

At the center of it all, men in golden spandex shorts, shaking their asses and rolling their hips to the beat. 

 

Ian leans against the bar in the middle of the room, taking it all in. 

 

“No fucking way.” Ian breathes. 

 

“Hey.” A deep voice greets from behind Ian. 

 

He spins around and finds himself face to face with no other than Mr. Milkovich himself. 

 

“Buy you a drink?” He asks. 

 

Ian stammers, trying to pull himself together.

 

Finally he collects his thoughts enough to spit out “yes”.

 

Mickey smiles and nods for Ian to follow him to a booth in the back. 

 

“First time here?” Mickey smirks, sliding a shot across the table toward Ian. 

 

Ian swallows it back before answering. 

 

“Uh, yeah.” He replies smoothly. 

 

“It’s amazing.” Mickey grins, looking around the club. “When I was growing up as a gay kid in the Southside, I never imagined a place like this existed so close to where I was.” 

 

“You’re Southside?” Ian asks, eyes glancing over the expensive watch and designer tie. 

 

“Yeah.” Mickey blushes a little. “I might’ve upgraded my look a little sense then, but the Southside shit is embedded in you forever.” 

 

“I know what you mean.” Ian laughs. 

 

They talk for over an hour, and it’s not until Mickey moves a little closer that Ian realizes that this is not just a random guy he met in a gay bar. 

 

“I, uh. I kind of have a confession to make.” Ian bites his cheek. 

 

“Okay…” Mickey frowns. 

 

Ian taps his fingers against the table. How do you tell someone that their wife paid you to follow them around for the past week. 

 

“Ian?” Mickey prompts.

 

Ian lets out a harsh, shallow breath.

 

“I’m a private investigator that your wife hired to gather evidence that you were having an affair with another woman.” Ian spits out quickly.

 

Mickey’s face goes from stunned to confused to annoyed to…amused? 

 

Mickey starts to laugh and Ian squints. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

 

“That stupid bitch.” Mickey lets out between snorts. 

 

Ian still looks deeply perplexed so Mickey starts to explain. 

 

“I gave her the divorce papers two weeks ago, but she’s put off signing them.” Mickey spills. “I guess now I know why.” 

 

“You didn’t tell her you were gay?” Ian questions. 

 

“Eh.” Mickey shrugs. “We never really got along anyway, gay or not, so it just felt like pouring salt into the wound.” 

 

“Why’d you marry her if you didn’t get along and you’re gay?” Ian can’t help but ask.

 

Mickey’s face falls a little bit and Ian realizes how intrusive of a question that could be. 

 

A gay kid from the Southside who is married to a woman is never an uplifting story. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Ian swiftly amends. 

 

“No. No. It’s fine.” Mickey says. “My dad’s a homophobic asshole. Same old story, right? I married her to get him off my back.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Ian offers sadly.

 

“It’s okay.” Mickey shrugs. “Some kids have it a lot worse, yeah? I’m just lucky that he never found out before he died.” 

 

“He’s dead?” Ian asks before realizing that this is his second super intrusive question in the last five minutes. 

 

“Yep.” Mickey nods. “Died three weeks ago. I found a divorce lawyer two days after I heard the news.” 

 

Ian nods before a thought hits him.

 

“So you’re free now!” Ian beams, staring straight into those bright blue eyes that shine even under the dim lights. 

 

“Yeah.” Mickey smiles, staring right back at Ian. “I’m free now.” 

 

*

 

“Fuck.” Ian breathes, pulling out slowly and rolling off of Mickey.

 

“Fuck.” Mickey echoes, throwing a leg over Ian’s and scooting himself closer. 

 

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds in the room is their heavy panting. 

 

Ian grabs Mickey’s hand and kisses it before turning to grin at the man lying beside him. 

 

Mickey blushes, hiding his face in Ian’s chest. 

 

“Wait!” Ian says suddenly, prompting Mickey to look up at him. 

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks. 

 

"Do I have to give Svetlana her money back?"

 

Mickey giggles into Ian's pecs.

 

"Nah." He mumbles. "I'll give her plenty in the settlement."  

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm putting a pause on prompts for a while to work on some personal ideas that I've had for a while. Sorry, if you've sent me a prompt recently, but I will get to it eventually. 
> 
> Thoughts and feelings on this one?
> 
> Check me out on [my tumblr](http://www.ianmickgallagher.tumblr.com)


End file.
